Male Species: Beware!
by Hazel-Buttafly
Summary: This is Leah Clearwater, being flung off the damn deep end of the dating pool. Perverted blind dates, stalking werewolf ex-boyfriends and men with more back hair than mountain goats. Oh, and apparently my kiss can turn guys gay now. Great. Blackwater.
1. The Pizza Boy

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga.**

**Okay, I thought I'd have another little story to write while I'm doing Stolen Child. Enjoy!**

**Yeah, this is Leah Clearwater, willingly being flung off the freakin' deep end of the dating pool. Perverted blind dates, stalking werewolf ex-boyfriends and men with more back hair than mountain goats. Oh, and apparently my kiss can turn guys gay now. **

**Great.**

**I need a warning label: date at own risk, seriously. **

* * *

**Male Species: Beware!**

**Chapter One: The Pizza Boy**

**...**

Oh for the love of—okay, fine. So what if it's pretty much common knowledge that I haven't dated in a while? Keep your damn nose out of it. So what if it's one of the La Push guaranteed features? It rains, rains some more, Leah Clearwater doesn't date, and hey, surprise, more damn rain! Yeah, being able to morph into a giant dog shockingly doesn't have much appeal to the opposite sex. What's not to love? Sharp canines, a fluffy tail… and there's something about me spending all my time with six foot shirtless hotties that bothers potential boyfriends.

Pfft. Not that I have many of those frolicking freely about the place. And I'm sure me capably sprouting fur that not even a lethal dose of wax can fix has absolutely nothing to do with the shortage of men in my life.

Ha. Right. That's totally the reason I'm alone. I don't wax.

Anyway last week I woke up, hit my head, cussed at my lamp for ten minutes, and then had an epiphany. I tried to explain it to Seth, you know, one of those moments of insanity, usually resulting in meaningful insight that may somehow turn my shitty life around? Well, I came to a decision: Sam Uley sucks, and it's time for me to move on.

Seth kind of blinked at me for a couple minutes then asked if I needed to go to the doctor because I must have hit my head a bit too hard. I knew that meant he wanted me to go see Dr. McSparkles, so I told him to go make out with the vampire mind-rapist and made myself pancakes, cause there's no chance in hell that would ever happen. Just like there was no chance in hell of him getting any of my pancakes.

The pack was over tonight, playing video games. I snuck upstairs to take a shower.

The hot water untangled my back muscles and the small room filled up with steam. It felt nice, I'd been on patrol all day and needed a miracle to get all the knotted leaves out of my hair, but the steady flow of the water kept me completely relaxed. Exhaling a content sigh, I snatched the towel dangling from a hook beside the sink, wrapping it around me. Stepping out of the shower proved difficult. Since my werewolf growth spurt I had to duck under the railing.

I opened the bathroom door and the steam pooled out at my feet. With the towel still draped around my body I walked downstairs, hearing the loud artificial roar of racing cars. Embry and Quil had their faces glued inches from the screen, fingers pressing wildly at the controllers, expressions locked in dead concentration, or constipation, I couldn't tell the difference. Seth was cheering them from an armchair that had been dragged across the room to a more convenient viewing location. It was Jacob I noticed most. He was sprawled lazily along the sofa, and his features stretched into a wide grin when I caught his eye.

"Wow. Time for your five o'clock strip already, Leah?" he teased.

"Sure, why not? Point me to the pole," I replied snidely.

Seth pulled a face. Quil and Embry briefly broke away from their game-trance to look at me. "Aw hell," Quil cursed as his car screeched, swerved and crashed into a building. "Jeez, Lee. Would you put some damn clothes on, please? If I lose one more game I have to give Jacob twenty bucks."

"Dude," Embry muttered to him. "You can so tell you've imprinted."

"This is my goddamn house, and I can walk around completely starkers wearing nothing but a sombrero if I damn well wanted to," I snapped at them. "So shut up."

"Well, someone took an extra dose of bitch-osterone this morning," Embry laughed.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen here, idiots," I waved my hand, gesturing towards the front entrance. I watched as all their eyes follow to where I was pointing. "Hopefully you all know what that is. It's called a door, and it's the thing normal people use when they want to enter or exit somewhere, instead of windows or doggy flaps."

Jacob nodded in mock-understanding. "Giant doggy flap, got it. And?"

"In one hour, someone will knock on it. And you will not under any circumstances _open _it, am I clear?"

Seth looked confused. "Why?"

"Because I said so, that's why."

Embry perked up. "Oh awesome. Did you order pizza?"

I could feel my pride begin shrivel and die as each of them stared hopefully at the assumption. How depressing was it that they thought that the pizza boy would come knocking for me on a Friday night? Was it really so likely that I wouldn't have a date that four dirty-minded guys wouldn't automatically jump to conclusions or something? Was I really that much of a bitter shrew that I didn't even deserve some kind of slight sexual innuendo?

"No," I seethed. "I have a date."

Any icy silence filled the room. I regretted my words almost immediately.

There was a moment of sheer dread as I awaited their response.

Jacob was first to break it, he let out a bark of laughter.

"Ha! Good one, Leah."

I glared at him. "You think that's funny, asshole? I _do_ have a date!"

This is why I didn't want to involve the pack with my love life, or lack thereof. If I did, I would never hear the end of it. Jacob would give me hell, Quil would giggle like a little fairy princess, Embry would make snide comments and Seth would most likely fake some sort of terminal illnesses to get me to stay home and, in his eyes, far away from men that may think of me as an actual woman, girly bits and all.

My genius is, of course, confirmed.

"Sure, sure, you have a date… and I'm the Queen of Bullshit."

"Hehe, Leah has a boyfriend!"

"So you're going on a date dressed like _that_, eh?" Embry snickered.

"I think I feel an aneurism coming on…"

I growled at them. "Fuck guys, just don't open the door or you'll die painfully. Simple as that."

Now that the death-threat was in place, I stormed upstairs. I had fifty-five minutes to get ready, and I needed to find prospective clothes—preferably, nice ones, the kind lacking holes and woodland debris. I'd become so accustomed to tank tops and shorts, and it's been years since I've shown any signs of femineity, I might as well go with the big guns: a dress. The guys really were going to fall over themselves when they see me in one of those.

I flicked through the outfits shoved into every spare piece of space in my wardrobe, throwing the rejects onto the floor. All my garments pre-werewolf were tucked away in boxes at the very bottom of the closet, including my somewhat-pretty lingerie, given that most of them held crappy memories of me and Sam. I would have burnt them if they weren't so damn expensive, so I settled for keeping them locked away. A reminder of a time where I could have put on any bra I wanted without a bunch of overgrown lapdogs sniggering at me.

A strapless black-and-emerald outfit was easily identifiable. It had been Sam's favourite, so it was only fitting that I wore it out this evening in a sort of subtle spite. I unzipped the side and slipped into it, holding my breath. It was a lot tighter, and a hell of a lot shorter, then I remembered. I guess I have to thank the stupid werewolf genes for that, too.

Nevertheless, it looked fantastic.

Every piece of fabric clung to my curves, leaving very little to the imagination. It was taut around my chest, slithering down to the arch of my waist and back, finally ending a bit higher than mid-thigh, showing off my muscular legs. If my mother still lived with us, she'd kill me before I was ever caught even_ dreaming_ of wearing something like this in public. Then resurrect me so she could ship me off to a nunnery.

Like hell if I care what they think. I deserve to feel sexy once in a blue moon, right?

Smug at the thought, I sliced a comb through my hair. Since joining Jake's pack, I'd started to grow it again. It was a protest to prove to my pack brothers that I was, indeed, of the female species and I was capable of acting as such, even if it only meant having breasts and longer hair than them. It now hung below my shoulders, enough to twist on top of my head, with a few shorter strands dangling down elegantly onto my neck.

To be honest I was one to wear mud rather than make-up, but for the occasion I glossed my lips and applied some eyeliner. Strapping on some high-heels, I took my black coat from the hanger and threw it across my arm, grasping my clutch purse from my bedside table; it was next to my lamp that was now held together by a shit load of duct tape after the, ahem, epiphany incident. The box gets thrown back to the depth from whence it came, and I spritzed myself with some perfume. I was presentable and ready in less time than I would have guessed.

Pacing myself back down the stairs, I couldn't hear any video games.

The guys must have stopped playing already since they all have the attention span of a grapefruit.

I've got a good ten minutes before my date arrives, and I can hear voices drifting up from the lounge room. I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, absorbing the scene before me. The pack had their shirts off—no shocker there—and were flaunting their well-developed muscles, each one of them carefully positioned to intimidate the man sitting very uncomfortably in an armchair, his eyes wide with a wilted bouquet of daisies in his lap.

Oh fuck.

That poor, unfortunate bastard.

"Oi," I drew attention to myself. "I thought I told you morons to _not_ answer the door?"

Embry's jaw dropped, Quil's expression was set to stunned and Seth looked as if he might throw-up. But Jacob wasn't looking at me; he was still glaring at the man in the armchair, scrutinizing his every move. Michael, my ill-fated date, was beyond relieved to see me that I could have been wearing a stuffed pink turkey on my head and he wouldn't have noticed.

Quil was first to recover, what with being imprinted and all.

"Err, Leah? Urgh, duh, of course your Leah… right?" he stuttered out, his cheeks flushed and he was staring at a spot on the ceiling as if it were a pretty interesting spot. "Well, you see, you told us not to open the door. And we didn't, cause you said nothing about not allowing the guy to let _himself_ in. We had a vote, and this was totally within the rules…" While he was speaking, Seth had leapt from his chair and took a protective stance in front of me, as if to cover any indecent exposure from his friends that were too busy ogling his older sister to have any shame.

"Leah," Seth said, horrified. "What's _that_?"

I smiled sweetly at him. "It's a dress, brother dearest."

"_Where's the rest of it_?"

"I have no idea what you mean." I stated indifferently, stepping out from behind him.

I smiled at Michael in attempt to make him a bit more comfortable. I think it kind of turned out as me flashing my teeth at him. His lips twitched in response, Jacob's glare kept him pinned in place, his eyes kept flickering nervously back to the giant Quileute, I walked over to them. Shit, I _really_ didn't want to do this in front of the whole freaking pack…

"I'm so sorry, Michael. Ignore them, their just dickheads. Are those for me?" I gestured to the flowers. Wordlessly, he nodded and shoved the daisies out in front of him with a stiff arm. I took them tentatively. "Uh, yeah. Wow. Thanks. I'll go put them in some water…" I felt bad for leaving him alone in that room as I dumped the bouquet in the kitchen on the counter.

Upon my return, the boys went quiet and started shuffling around. I glowered at them.

"Um, are you ready to go?" I asked Michael.

He jumped from the armchair. "Yes," he said eagerly. I guess the dude has half a brain after all.

I pursed my lips into a another attempt at a smile. "Meet you outside, okay? I'll be one second."

Michael nodded again and practically skipped out the door to his freedom. As soon as he was out of sight, I snapped around to glare at the guys, who were trying very hard not to draw any individual attention to themselves. I folded my arms and chewed on the inside of my cheeks to keep from losing my temper and ruining my careful grooming by phasing into a wolf. Huffing, I shifted my footing.

"You bitches better start apologising, these heels look like they'll match your asses when I kick them up there."

Seth immediately caved.

"We're sorry," he gushed. "We just wanted to make sure he wasn't… you know…"

"A jackass?" Embry offered.

"Yeah," Seth agreed eagerly.

"I can look out for myself," I scowled, flicking my hair. "Look, I got to go…"

"Good luck, Lee," Quil said sincerely. "We're cheering for you."

I was never one that comfortable feel into openly displayed affection, so I tapped his shoulder to show my appreciation and headed for the door. Jacob was leaning against the frame, his emotions so mixed the only thing I could decipher was his soft smile. His gaze drifted up and down, I felt like saying something smart-ass, but the words got stuck halfway up my throat. The way he looked at me made my skin feel warm.

"Leah…" he said my name with a heavy weight attached to unsaid words, but in the end Jacob shook his head slightly, smirked and settled for lightly commenting. "Did you shave your legs?"

Seth had his puke-face on again. Grinning, I winked. "You never know, I might get lucky."

Embry chuckled. "You've been in our heads for too long, Lee."

I rolled my eyes and strolled out into the front yard. Michael was waiting in his car and I slid into the passenger seat beside him. "Sorry about them," I wasn't actually sorry. It just seemed like the polite thing to say. Everyone I know gets a certain amount of apologises that I'll willingly grant to them in a lifetime. After that, it'd be easier to pry teeth from me.

"It's, uh, fine," he said, lips twitching again.

Michael was a real nervous little thing. The pack must have done a good job scaring the shit out of him before I showed my face. He was from the Makah rez up north. We'd stumbled across each other when I was there with my mother and Emily visiting her parents to organise wedding crap, to my irritation. He was about my height, but still a head shorter than Jacob or Embry. He had freckles sprinkled across his face, ironically like pizza topping, and he was paler than most Native Americans, with brownish curls.

"You look nice, Leah," he complimented awkwardly.

"Ah, yeah. Thanks."

We drove to Port Angeles in silence once I'd given up at attempting small talk.

I guess Michael was sort of polite; he opened the door for me once we got to the tavern. It was one of the few places around here that served food and alcohol. After that car ride, I felt in desperate need of both. We sat down at a table nearest the bar and I started flipping through the menu. Michael wouldn't stop fidgeting. He began tearing his napkin into little pieces on his lap, brushing them onto the floor. The waitress was started to look extremely irritated at the mess she'd have to clean up. I tried to hide my 'this dude's an idiot' expression behind the cardboard sheets of the main meals.

A bleached-blonde waiter appeared a few second later, a notebook and pen in hand.

"Hello," he greeted cheerfully. "Can I get you two a drink?"

"Uh, alright," I began, peeking briefly back to the list. "Can I have the—"

Michael, who moved on to fiddling with his fork, dropped it loudly onto his plate. Startled, I glanced oddly at him as he broke into a sweat and I heard his heart thumping in his chest—credited to advanced werewolf senses. He swallowed and stared at me desperately.

"I—I'm sorry," he blurted. "I… I just can't do this."

And with that, he stood up and left.

He _left_.

We'd barely been out twenty fucking minutes, and the bastard _left_. I could only gawk in disbelief.

The waiter gave me a sympathetic look. "First date?" he questioned.

"Yeah,"

"Ouch, that's tough. Martini?"

"Please."

On the plus side: the drink was on the house.

…

And this is exactly why men suck. I was not very enthusiastic about going home and facing Seth. I had to wander into the forest, take off my dress and carry it in my mouth while running home, so I had no way to explain the huge drool stains. Another thing would be answering his questions on why I'd only been gone an hour, and why I was so incredibly drunk I could barely walk straight. So being ditched depresses me, got a problem with that?

I only had one tequila shot, anyway. Or maybe eleven. I lost count.

Stumbling through the door, I shut it quietly behind me, sneaking in unnoticed and passing out in my room with a bucket being the best option my brain could conjure at the moment. The front rooms were unoccupied, but I could hear obnoxious laughter coming from the kitchen in which the pack was probably eating me and Seth out of house and home. For whatever reason, the squeaking stairs seemed louder than usual, and I was constantly pausing mid-step, expecting to be discovered like a small child creeping back to bed after a midnight snack of forbidden double-chocolate cake that your mother made for your kid brothers birthday the next day but you just couldn't damn well help yourself and accidently left fingerprints in the frosting.

As soon as I thought it, I started to crave cake. Fudge-smothered cake… all chocolate and fudgey…

Dammit.

I was almost safe, inches from my room, when I heard my name.

"Leah?" I froze. Jacob was exiting the bathroom. "What the hell are you doing?"

I hadn't noticed I was tiptoeing around like a freaking weirdo. "Aw fuck," I cursed. "What are _you_ doing here?" Amused, Jacob gestured back towards the bathroom, shrugging. "What, you couldn't just take a piss outside like a normal guy? Were the bushes laughing at you again?"

I was kind of annoyed he'd caught me in my awesome, stealthy act.

"Leah, what—"

"Um, hey Jake, I, err, think I smell a vampire. Yeah, that's it, I smell a vampire. Go fetch and make friends or something. That's what you do nowadays, right? Make friends with bloodsuckers? Do you have little bloodsucking tea parties too?"

Jacob shook his head. "Stop trying to avoid my questions," I hated that he could read my mind without being in my head. It was just borderline freaky. My drunkenness didn't help me filter my emotions, and apparently my stealthy skills sucked right now; I was outright confused when Jacob suddenly flared with anger. "What happened? Did he try to hurt you?" he demanded.

I flinched, his voice echoed in my head. "Oh Jesus, shut up, Jake!" I squinted at him. "And tell the walls to stop moving."

He seemed satisfied that my date—what was the dudes name again?—didn't try to pull a fast one on me, so he gripped my shoulders with his large, warm hands to stop himself from swaying. Or was I swaying? Urgh, I just don't know anymore. "Lee, are you _drunk_?" Ha, no shit, Alpha. "Wow, I'm impressed. It takes a lot for us to get smashed. How much did you have?"

I groaned. "Didn't we already have this conversation?" Or had that been a conversation I had in my head?

"I assume the date didn't go very well."

"You assume correct, fuckwit."

"That bad, huh?"

"Lemme put it this way—I would rather date a Cullen."

Jacob grinned. I'm _so_ glad he finds my pain funny. "Yikes, really?"

"No, not really."

"So what happened?"

"Jeez, I'd rather keep my last shred of dignity, if you don't mind."

"Oh… do you need anything?"

I thought about it. "A forbidden double-chocolate cake," I declared with a nod. It probably sounded really random to him. Reaching outwards, I carefully pressed up against the wall and felt along it to the direction of my room. Maybe lying down would make things stop spinning.

Pausing, I added.

"Oh, and Jake, do me a favour?"

He was staring at me freakishly again. "Yeah?"

"Burn the fucking daisies."

Jacob laughed, I scowled and I slammed the door in his stupid face.

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**Hehe well, please tell me what you think! This is the prologue, and if anyone is interested I'd be happy to write this during my spare time and in-between writing my other Leah-based story. I have this one planned out for a bit, lots of hilarious (for us, anyway) bad dates for Leah, and its set after Breaking Dawn. I'm tossing a coin to what the end pairing is going to be, however I am leaning towards Blackwater... ideas anyone? **

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	2. Dancing Queen

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga.**

**Wow, I've gotten such positive feedback for this story! I'm kind of really pleasantly surprised. Thanks for all your comments. Please review!**

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**Chapter Two: Dancing Queen**

**…**

I woke up noticing that I slept on the wrong side of the bed. Literally.

My feet were resting on my pillow near the headboard, and I actually had a _hangover_. I hadn't had one of those since I was fully human, and to be honest I didn't really mourn the loss when I figured that totally awesome badass fact out. Damn, how much vodka did I have again? The night was a complete blur, just like I had wanted it to be. I'm a mastermind in desperate need of aspirin and sugary cereal. Maybe Froot Loops. Yeah, Froot Loops sound good.

Hmm, I wonder how many brain cells all that alcohol killed?

Oh well, I'll grow new ones.

Maybe.

Peeping my head from under the covers, a small sliver of light made my eyes burn, so I retreated back under the sheets to darkened safety. Groaning, I forced myself to take a quick glare at my clock. It was nine-thirty-ish. I threw off my protective blanket layers and stretched, yawning soundly to myself.

I could hear movement downstairs, meaning Seth was already up, or one of our pack mates had broken into the house again to steal our food.

Dragging myself into the kitchen proved treacherous, my feet shuffled on the floor. To my satisfaction, the box of Froot Loops was already on the table along with a milk carton, so I didn't really give a shit about whoever broke into my house as long as they took out my breakfast. However, Seth bid me a cheerful good morning from his place by the waffle-maker. I grunted, asked him what the fuck was so good about it, then started picking out the purple, red and blue rings out of the cardboard, swigging them down with the milk straight from the carton.

I couldn't be screwed to get a bowl. It would involve movement, and movement usually requires shifting limbs, which equals unnecessary noise.

Noise and limb requirement—two _big_ no-no's for me right now.

Seth sat down across from me; I was completely occupied trying to jump-start my brain with a find-the-word meant for five year olds at the back of the cereal box. My head shot up instinctively at the strong aroma of his waffles, but instead I noticed a cluster of battered green storks partly concealed behind Seth's ten-inch-high waffle plate.

"Seth, what the hell is that?" I gestured to the storks with my spoon, frowning. "Is it a _vegetable_?"

The term vegetable was a rarity in this house.

If you squinted, the bunch looked a bit like battered, leafless parsley.

"Uh crap, Leah, about that…" Seth stuttered, immediately looking guilty. He sighed. "Okay Lee, I'm really, _really_ sorry about your flowers," he said sadly, holding one of the pathetically chopped stems. "Jake shoved them down the garbage disposal drain and pleaded momentary insanity… I tried to stop him, I really did." It took me a second to remember. That idiot, I'm sure I told him _fire_.

I stared blankly for a moment before shrugging. I guess the garbage disposal was acceptable. "Oh, right. Whatever." And I continued munching on sugary loops.

Seth flinched, then was confused that I hadn't hit him. "You… you're not upset?"

"Do I _look _upset?"

"No…"

"Then what does that tell you?"

"That… you're not upset?"

"Bingo."

Seth reluctantly relaxed. "Great. Well, since you're in a good mood, you won't be mad that the guys stayed over last night, right? Cause your such a cool sister like that?"

I stiffened. "Do I look upset _now_?" I hissed through gritted teeth.

I clutched my spoon so tightly between my fingers that I left indents in the metal.

"A little," Seth admitted warily.

"Jeez, the idiots might as well move in, they live here half the time anyway," I muttered darkly.

I heard a low chuckle that just about had me jump out of my skin. "Shit, Leah. I feel so welcome I'm all warm and fuzzy inside," Jacob strolled casually into the kitchen, wearing only his boxer shorts and a smirk. He bypassed us at the table and began rummaging through the contents of the fridge, knowing very well it would annoy the fuck out of me. Quil and Embry arrived seconds later, their loud bantering ceased when Jacob pulled out half a roast chicken.

It's seriously eerie how guys their size don't make the floorboards squeak. How the heck do they _do_ that? And why the hell were they eating chicken for breakfast? And why the hell were they eating _my_ chicken for breakfast?

"Although, now that you were so kinds to mention it Leah," Jacob mused thoughtfully, his words muffled as he shoved in a chicken leg, "that might not be _the worst_ idea you've ever come up with… the whole pack under one roof would be practical, and patrolling won't be such an issue with everyone so close by—"

Lividly, I slammed my hand on the table. "I wasn't offering, moron." I snapped.

My head throbbed. _Ow_.

"But Lee, we were talking and… and…" Seth whined.

Oh hell, so they were actually considering this _before _I opened my stupid mouth?

I rounded on Seth, glowering at him. "If you lot want to live together then move in with Mr. I-Have-Fourteen-Stomachs over there," I pointed to Jacob busy stuffing his face above the sink, gnawing at the meat on the bone. "He's the Alpha, not me."

Damn them, they were slowly closing in. Seth was giving me pleading eyes. "Leah, you know Jake's place is too small, we wouldn't be able to breathe. We have plenty of room. And if everyone is living here, we'd be saving Embry from all the trouble he's having with his Mum and stuff…" Great, now they were trying to guilt-trip me. Bastards.

"What about Quil?" I suggested desperately. "His downstairs is huge." Of course, I meant it in the house-living-area sense, and the idiots knew that, but that didn't stop the guys from giggling like a bunch of pre-pubescent girls.

Quil puffed out his chest once they all finished high-fiving each other and I slapped my forehead.

"Wow, thanks Leah. I didn't realise you noticed."

I shook my head. "Jesus Christ…" I was _way_ too hung-over for this shit…

"Is that a maybe?" Jacob asked. "You know, I can always order you." He added mock-seriously.

"Urgh, fine, I'll mull it over, I guess," I muttered wirily, hitting my head against the table. I limply flicked my wrist towards them. "Now skedaddle, kiddos. Go obtain me some kick-ass sedative drugs. Jeez, why the hell are you all breathing so loudly? And would it kill you to make me a coffee? If you're going to steal my roast chicken, a caffeinated beverage is _the least_ you jackasses can do—"

I was alone in the kitchen within one-point-five of a second.

Those assholes.

**…**

Bonus of stupid, life-ruining werewolf gene: hangovers don't last long. Awesomeness much? I felt like getting out of the La Push, so I travelled to Forks to do the groceries. That's where I met date number two: Brian. While I was in line to pay for a cart-full of provisions that would probably only last a day in my testosterone-infested house, he commented on how gorgeous I was and asked me out dancing. Under different circumstances I would have hurled a 150 gram can of dolphin-free tuna at his head, but in my eagerness to put my other crap-tastic date behind me, I accepted with semi-good grace.

The next couple of days prior to date two, I felt unusually excited. I don't know whether it was the rarity of going out and really _dancing_ or that I just happened to get a good vibe from Brian, who actually seemed like an okay person—that happened to ask random people out in grocery stores, Jacob didn't fail to point out.

I told him where to shove his comment then phased back, not bothering to finish my patrol.

Learning from my previous mistake, I told Brian that I would meet him outside, to which the pack was immensely disappointed at a missed chance to torture their next victim. Poor things, it was like telling a little kid there was no Christmas this year because daddy gambled away all their savings. Except in this case it was the crazed she-wolf threatening to rip their dicks off if they so much as put one toe out the door.

_Heh_. Is it sick that I find that thought—and their faces as I said it—incredibly amusing?

This time around I decided to go with something a bit I'm-going-out-to-do-something-fun flashy and less I-haven't-gotten-any-in-a-while-so-I'm-desperate sexy, but not overly I-hide-behind-sweat-pants non-sexy and not I'm-a-tarty-show-off flashy. Fashion is so fucking difficult. In the end, I threw on a red-sequin halter-top and black leggings, leaving my hair in a stylishly messy disarray.

Jacob made sure to pull me aside to verify I knew all the safety procedures of clubs and drinking and non-phasing self-defence. When he asked seriously if I needed a demonstration, I rolled my eyes at him. "Grow a pair, Jake," I said, I guess it's my way of telling someone not to worry. "I'll wreck a little havoc, that's it. I promise."

He looked grim. "Right," Jacob nodded reluctantly.

Carefully, I slipped out unnoticed, jumping into the passenger side of Brian's Honda Element.

My companion staring through the car window and towards the house with an expression I couldn't quite place. I couldn't see anything particularly interesting, just the pack's silhouettes from the window where they were probably staring at us, too.

"What are you looking at?" I asked him curiously.

He broke away from his daze, smiling coyly. "Oh. Nothing."

"Let's drive," I grinned mischievously.

He grinned a perfect white smile and pressed his foot to the accelerator.

We arrived in Port Angeles in record time, that's the cool thing about small towns; you knew the cops and what to find if you knew where to look. Bryan took me into an underground nightclub and passed the red velvet rope, which I'm sure was to impress me—and for the record, it did. The music bass thumped, the lights flashed and reflected off my red-sequin halter, Bryan and I approached the bar and ordered our first round of drinks.

And that's how it went.

We danced, and drunk, then danced and drunk. Talked a bit, then drunk some more.

I found a new love for the _raspberry margarita_; thank you Brian for that splendid introduction!

It was surprisingly easy to talk to him, during the times when the music was low enough that you could hear anything. He made me smile, and we enjoyed ourselves cruising around the club chatting to others and toasting random things to every drink on the menu. Through our continuous orders, I learnt the bartender's name; Steve. He said he thought I was cute as he poured me a whiskey. I stared blankly at him, wishing the guys were here to actually see for themselves that someone thought I was _cute_. I don't think most people would refer to women almost six feet tall as cute. I drew the conclusion that something must be seriously wrong with Steve.

By three in the morning, Brian and I were leaning against each other, since I could barely stand in my four-inch stilettos without falling over and snorting at myself and he was half passed-out, even though I drank a hell of a lot more than he ever could. We sat on a bench at the side of the road.

"Le-le-le-le-_Leah_," Brian sang, rolling the letters. "How're we gunna get home?"

I glared at him with a mini pink umbrella sticking out between my teeth.

"I dunno," I said, frowning. "Where'd the car go?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. We're too drunk to drive," he muttered, pulling out his phone.

"Are you calling a taxi?" I asked.

"Naw," he groaned. "I'm going to call my boyfriend for a lift. You don't mind, do you?"

It took an embarrassingly long time for my brain to register.

Holy Mother of God.

I really hope he meant boyfriend strictly in the _friend_ sense.

Of course it turns out boyfriend wasn't in the friend sense in the slightest. Two seconds later, Steve—bartender-thought-I-was-cute-and-gave-us-two-free-rasberry-margartias Steve—pulled up in Brian's Honda Element to give us a ride home. Safe to say that was in the top five of the most uncomfortable drives of my existence, right up there with when I was driving along with Dad and a 'wanna last longer?' radio advertisement popped up. The more I thought about it as we drew nearer to La Push, the more obvious it became that Brian wasn't even remotely interested in women.

Talk about a fucking ego-booster. I'm Leah Clearwater: I've resorted to gay guys now. Great.

I felt like hitting myself in the head. I mean, _obviously_ he was gay, I mean, we met in a freaking grocery store and there weren't any frozen dinners in his cart or the newest issue of _Playboy_ hidden under a six-pack of beer. There wasn't _any beer at all_. That should have been my first clue. The second being he mentioned I had a nice rack with envy instead of drooling admiration.

I'm a freakin' idiot.

Brian ended up unconscious in the back seat when Steve pulled up to my house. He smiled at me. "Thanks for keeping him company tonight, Leah," he said sincerely. "I know he gets real lonely when I do all-nighters, and he refuses to show up at the club alone. It looked like he had a lot of fun tonight," Steve winked. "And he kept out of too much trouble."

I blinked; I felt a little like screaming _you could have helped a sister out and slipped me a note or something!_ Fuck!

"Uh, yeah. Whatever. No problem," I blurted, closing the door and making a mad dash for the house to save myself from further humiliation. I darted inside and pressed myself against the closed door to take a breather, only to feel my cheeks flush in mortifying anger as the pack scrambled away from the window, trying disastrously to appear casual.

I didn't speak. They didn't speak. We all stared.

"Leah," Seth said suspiciously. "That's not the same guy that picked you up…"

"It's, um, part of the clubs coupon offers," I stated wistfully. "Free plastic-surgery with every tenth pina colada." It is quite hard to come up with good lies when you're this wasted. "What are you lot doing up anyway?" I folded my arms and put on my best scolding expression. "It's, like…" hell, what was the time again? "It's… um, late."

"We heard the car coming, so—_ouch_!" Quil was cut-off by Jacob's elbow. "Ow! What the hell, Jake?"

"What he _means_ is we just got up to… patrol," Jacob declared pleasantly.

"Err, yeah," Embry nodded. "Patrol. We're werewolves, we patrol. It's our birthright and stuff."

Seth plastered on a grin. "Patrols, hooray!"

Do they seriously expect me to buy this shit? "Uh, do you seriously expect me to buy this shit?"

"Maybe…" Jacob stared uncomfortably. "How drunk are you?"

"Not drunk enough." I stated bluntly.

"Well, we tried," Quil shrugged, flopping onto the couch. "So how was it?"

I played dumb. "How was what?"

"Your date," Embry said the same time Quil exclaimed: "the action!"

Seth pounced, tackled and pinned him to the ground, Quil's face squished against my grandmother's antique rug. "There—was—_no_—_action_!" Seth growled at him before looking up at me meekly. "Was there?" he asked unsurely with a crinkled nose and an I-don't-really-want-to-know-please-for-the-love-of-God-lie-to-me tone.

"Trust me," I scowled dully. "I've gotten further with my pillow."

Quil raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to speak but Seth covered it so it came out muffled.

"You don't mind if we crash here tonight Leah?" Jacob asked softly.

"Whatever," I closed my eyes and blindly made my way to the stairs. I froze. "Oh," I opened them with an expression of insight on my otherwise blank face. "Now I get it," The boys had equal looks of confusion. "He was looking at the house, into the window because saw you all and… he thought you guys were hot. Huh."

They exchanged worried glances for my sanity and I went to bed.

* * *

**I don't really think this particular chapter is the best it could be, but I felt bad about how long I've put this story off and had to upload something and I've had this sitting unfinished for a while now. Hopefully it's not too awful and provided a few laughs. This story is just getting started, I've get a lot planned for it. Oh, and it seems most of you are quite happy with Blackwater, and I've gotten some questions about Nessie. Regrettably, she'll make her appearance.**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


	3. Jail Bird's Mate

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga.**

**I can't believe how long ago I started this story! Seem's like yesterday... Sorry for the lag! Hope this can make up for it!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Jail Bird's Mate**

**…**

"Ha, ha! Oh God, Lee I can't believe you spent the whole night hitting on a homo! This is just too good to be true―oh man, look at this! I'm crying from laughter! There are literally tears emerging from my eyeballs down my face! Classic!"

Mortified, I scowled at Embry, then narrowed my death stare at Seth. "I told you to keep your stupid mouth _shut_!" I snapped at my sibling.

Seth was about to respond―probably with some lame excuse like how he can't stop the pack mind-reading bullshit―when Quil interrupted. "I still don't get how this whole thing happened," he mused, his bulky frame leaning against the kitchen counter as the rest of us crowded around the table in a swarm around eight pizza boxes I had delivered. Quil had stolen one and balanced it on a single hand and shoved the slices in with the other.

"You mean how Leah could easily be mistaken for a man?" Embry tried to keep a straight face.

Quil grinned. "Nah, I mean, don't women come with built-in gay-dars or something? Isn't that what your gender always boasts about? That you can, like, _tell _or something?"

"Ha. Yeah, of course we do," I growled at him, my fists itching for some contact with flesh. Preferably Quil's flesh. "Along with microchips that tell us to cook you food and do your dirty laundry, you stupid sexist―"

"_Please_ don't make her give the 'men are stupid sexist pigs' speech," Seth begged.

"I've heard it twice more than normal today!" Embry added cheerfully.

"Watch your goddamn tone buddy," I cuffed him across the ear. "My lectures _are not_ to be enjoyed." I glowered at him for good measure, disgusted at the mere mention of my prudently thought out semi-feminist views being even slightly entertaining.

"I don't enjoy them," Seth said quickly.

"Don't be a kiss-ass, Seth." I scolded.

"Yeah, Seth. Don't be a kiss-ass." Embry snickered smugly.

I glared at him and set my carefully-clenched fist on the table. "Embry Call, I swear, if you don't shut the fuck up this second, I'm gonna get my dad's ancient hot-glue gun from the cupboard―you know, the colossal-sized kind with lots of sharp bits sticking out everywhere, held together by duct tape―and shove it right up your stupid―"

"Ouch," Jacob laughed, and chose that moment to stroll into the room. "I don't think I wanna know how that threat ends."

"Meh, I can take a pretty good guess," Quil nodded mockingly.

My eyes narrowed. "Okay guys," I spoke slowly, to ensure those of them with underdeveloped minds could keep up. "We shall never speak of this again. The fact that Leah Clearwater was a fag hag for a night will by _no means_ be repeated outside this house. I don't care how funny you think it is. I don't care how awesome of a joke you think it would be to tell over a few drinks. I don't care if someone beats you to the last fraying threads of your pathetic little lives. _That_. _Night_. _Never_. _Happened_. End of story."

Satisfied, I folded my arms into my lap to signify the end of the conversation.

Embry went to open his big mouth to speak. "No bloody way buddy," I hissed. "I still haven't ruled out the hot-glue gun notion. It will be safer for you and your anus if you just don't say anything for a good long while."

"But I―"

"Nuh-uh," I interrupted again. "No speaking."

"But Leah―"

"Cram a chew-toy in it, Embry."

"But―"

"Jeez, I said no!" he pouted and went quiet. I huffed irritably. "Okay, _fine_. What is it?"

He grinned triumphantly. "So… you thinking of jumping back on the horse anytime soon or what? Getting back in the wagon? Put all your eggs in one basket? Make an investment on someone? Fish for a better prize?"

I scoffed. "Are you fucking kidding me? _I am never going on a date again_!" I threw myself onto an empty pizza box since my body suddenly felt heavy with all the weariness. I groaned. "This is it. It's over. My life is over. I should've known I'd end up one of those crazy ladies with a zillion cats and an extensive stamp collection that's worth less than horse shit."

Jacob, who'd been unusually silent, walked over and sat by me.

He smiled.

I was too depressed to yell at him for thinking my pain was funny again. He's such a jerk.

He reached out and plucked dried mozzarella cheese out of my hair. I could practically hear his brain reeling. Opening and closing his mouth several times, he finally spoke: "If it makes you feel better, I'll let you break Embry's nose," he offered comfortingly. For whatever reason, I knew those words were not what he had intended to say, and it sort of left a hollow feeling in my chest. Despite it, I smiled at him because it was such a Jacob-ish thing to say and it did make me feel a little better as we both ignored Embry's loud objection.

"Thanks Jake," I said softly. "That means a lot."

Yeah. I'm the kind of girl to get choked up over breaking someone's bones. Nice.

**…**

The next week, I'd managed to have been on three very successful dates.

Well, by _successful_ I meant 'better in comparison to the rest' and by _successful dates_ I meant 'better in comparison to the rest with the same guy that I had somehow not managed to scare away thus far, or render unconscious, or be rendered unconscious, or utterly screw up in some way'. Amazingly, the glass seemed to be becoming half-full, and this time it wasn't with vodka, which is always a sober plus.

Directly following the gay-date fiasco, my self-confidence ran a new low―hitting forty-two feet below sea level and getting jammed between a couple jagged rocks somewhere between dying-alone and no-mans-land. Jacob, Seth and Embry had both tried to get me to slow down on the "seeing-of-unknown-men" by claiming that the packs put together should be enough testosterone to annoy and satisfy me for a while. It had been Quil's verbal kick in the ass that had made me accept Taylor as my third date, by telling me to go for it, negative outcomes be damned.

I'd yet to regret my decision, and it's safe to say the rest of the pack aren't too happy with Quil at the moment, for talking me back to the ledge that was my dating life.

Early afternoon I collapsed onto my couch, lifting my feet up to rest on Jacob's lap. I'd been condemned with the silent-treatment from my Alpha and the others ever since my first successful dinner with Taylor and it had ceased to be amusing. Especially since two of them were squatters practically living in my house. Jeez.

"C'mon Jake," I groaned, poking him with my foot. "You can't ignore me forever."

He turned his head and looked at me sceptically. "You still going out with _Taylor_?" he asked stiffly.

I rolled my eyes. "It's a bloody unisex name, Jake," I informed, flaring. "And so what if I am―?"

"Then I'm still ignoring you."

"But you haven't even met the guy yet! What could he possibly have done?"

"Why don't you go find Quil and ask him? It seems like he's the only one of us you're listening to nowadays anyway." He stared pointedly at the television, looking at me only by the corner of his eye, as if waiting for me to cave in by this snubbing gesture alone.

My lips twitched and I took the opportunity to do something very unlike something I'd ever do―I leapt on top of Jacob and pinned him between my body and the couch, forcing his gaze to be on me and me alone.

"Aw, no. Did I hurt your itty-bitty feelings, Mighty Alpha?" I said girlishly.

Jacob spluttered and―wait, did I detect a _blush_? "N-no. Don't be stupid." He faltered. It was very unlike Jake to lose his cool in an unanticipated predicament. Despite him being flustered, he was doing that eye-smouldering thing that he's pretty damn good at and I noticed my hand had fallen naturally onto his chest. He lifted his own and placed it over mine keeping it there, so I could feel his heart beating on my fingertips.

The whole situation took me off-guard, and I was so surprised I didn't think to get off him immediately, and I swear we started gravitating closer to each other until another voice sliced the thick air around us.

"Ahem," Embry had walked in with a bowl of popcorn.

Clearing his throat, I took that as the jolt to get my ass back into gear and to not be straddling my Alpha on the couch. I could just imagine how bad the whole thing looked.

"Sorry. Am I interrupting something?" There was a coldness in Embry's tone that surprised me even more. He was never so blunt, always laughing and joking around, taking the piss out of me. Seems like everyone's acting more than a little strange today.

"Course not," I laughed the whole thing off as if it were nothing. "Sucked in, boys. You're both talking to me now. Looks like I win. Well... Ha."

This was kind of awkward.

Embry and Jake shared this look I didn't quite understand, and the next thing I knew I'd muttered some random words that made no sense―something that sounded like, I think I left Seth in the oven―and blotted the hell out of there before I got sucked in to the black hole of their gaze.

Yes. Very awkward. But why? I mean, a part from the general awkwardness of me mounting the Alpha of our pack, that happened to be Jake, the guy I've known since forever? And I wanted to get closer. What was it about Jacob Black that made me throw all logic out the window? Urgh, I'm so stupid sometimes.

And why did Embry walking in send a jolt of energy through me? Why did I care what that kid thought―what _either_ of those kids thought? Besides the whole getting along with everyone cause we're supposed to be some kind of fur-tastic team? The better of the two packs?

And why, _why_, am I mulling over the whole thing so desperately?

Urgh.

**…**

I should've known it was too good to last.

Taylor took me to a small, smoky pub on the outskirts of Forks to hear his friend play in some kind of music band. It wasn't exactly my scene, but whatever. There was always a filled drink in my hand, so I was content. I was in that happy place, which is usually the only place a werewolf can get to without indulging in much hard liquor.

Anyway, it was a good night. The band didn't really suck too bad, and Taylor was interesting to talk to. He'd had his last beer a few hours ago so he'd be okay to drive us home. I met his mate in the band―he was the bass guitarist. He was an alright bloke besides the fact I could smell the alcohol on his breathe, my enhanced nose just about tried to spring away from my face every time the guy opened his mouth even remotely near me.

We'd said our goodbyes, my nose cheered, so Taylor and I headed back towards his Ute. We jumped in, I realised I'd forgotten my jacket―which was really just for show, since I wasn't cold at all―back in the pub. Taylor waited in the car once I'd insisted on running back to get it myself. I'm independent dammit.

On the road, we got stuck behind some dickhead driving―no, _crawling_ up the road in the centre of both lanes. I was just about ready to get out of the car, abuse the asshole in front of us, and walk home cause it would be ten times faster than the speed we were going.

"This is fucking ridiculous," I muttered to Taylor. "Just tap him on the bumper to get him going. Go on."

Taylor pursed his lips. "This is a new Ute, Leah."

"Then honk your horn, flash your lights, do _something_!"

I'm not known for my patience. So sue me.

Taylor took out his phone.

"Dan?" he spoke into the receiver. It was the bass guitarist. "Yeah, man. Hey look, do you think you could pull over, and I'll just drive you home? No, no, I swear, we'll pick up your truck in the morning… nothing will happen to it, dude. It's like from the seventies."

What.

What?

His friend was the douche in front of us? Seriously?

I didn't have much time for a valid response. I saw flashing blue and red lights come speeding up beside Dan's car. And Dan sped up. The police sped up. Taylor swore and also sped up. I tried to calm myself, because there was no way we were actually chasing a cop car, right?

"What the hell are you doing?" I exclaimed.

Taylor's eyes didn't leave the road. "Following them."

Dan slammed on the breaks. The cops slammed on their breaks. Taylor's new Ute stopped inches from the police car and I jolted forward in my seat, swearing.

To keep this brief, we spent the night in the police station waiting room for this Dan to get out of jail for drunk-driving and leading a 'high-speed chase' when we seriously didn't go over thirty miles an hour. Trust my mum and Charlie to be on a damn holiday. I couldn't weasel my way out of this one without my mother's boyfriend sitting in the Chief chair.

Charlie's asshole of a Deputy had taken our things as 'evidence', denied us a phone call and refused to let me leave no matter how much I verbally assaulted him. I knew he still had a grudge against me from when I was a young teen and lit his front doormat on fire because he'd repossessed my homemade potato launching gun. Now I had no way to get home except to wait for Taylor, Dan and their cars to become un-confiscated, since I'd been denied the right to make my own way there.

I'd been handcuffed to my chair. Apparently so I wouldn't walk out. I guess the Deputy had heard a lot about me from Charlie. The annoying thing was, I could have easily broken the cuffs if I wanted to. Damn werewolf secrecy crap.

"So," Taylor finally spoke, both of us sitting stiffly beside one another in the cramped room. What with my hand being cuffed, it made the situation even more uncomfortable with my arm twisted at some weird angle. "I'm assuming an apology just won't cut it, eh?"

I stared forward, my face blank. "Nope." I popped the letter on my lips.

Taylor grimaced. "Thought so. Would it have helped if the Deputy didn't Taser you?"

"Ah, lemme think… _Nope_."

I continued to stare at the fake fern plant in the corner.

"Is there any way I can make this up to you? I mean, I know I let my mate drive drunk, but it was only cause I thought I stood a chance at making it home with you tonight and didn't want him throwing up and killing the mood, and I thought if we drove behind and kept him out of trouble then maybe―" I didn't want to hear any more of his pathetic ramblings.

"Taylor," I stated dully. "Please shut the hell up."

**…**

Hours passed. My wrist was beginning to chafe.

Then I heard footsteps. Hoping the Deputy had developed some wisp of a soul; I perked up and tried to look as innocent as humanely possible as that was for me. Maybe it would earn me some desperately needed brownie points.

A voice called out. "Leah?"

I was confused.

"Wha―Jacob? Is that really you?" I sounded way too eager to see him. I thought about what this probably seemed like to him, seeing his responsible Beta handcuffed to a chair at the cop station. I wondered if it was too melodramatic to start sobbing with relief. And there he was, standing in the doorway, grinning like a God. "Jake, oh man you have no clue how happy I am to see you!"

The Deputy followed in behind him, and reluctantly un-cuffed me. I gave him a smug look and absentmindedly rubbed my wrist. Now that Jacob was here to rescue me, there was no further need to even try and play nice.

"Well, I'm certainly going to be writing a _very_ nasty letter to your superiors about this," I warned him.

I practically skipped out of the building, not even giving Taylor a second glance even though I could feel his stare burning holes through my back.

"Nice to see you so cheery," Jake commented, with a big smile plastered on his face.

I laughed. "Oh Jake, I could so kiss you right now!"

The second the words left my mouth, we both looked at each other awkwardly.

"Um, figure of speech," I mumbled, eyes glued to the sidewalk. "Anyway, what I mean is I'm totally grateful, and don't get me wrong, but how the hell did you know where to find me? And how the hell did you manage to bust me out?" I gave him a suspicious glance. "Did you bribe or promise sexual favours to that prick with a badge?"

Jacob shifted his feet and fiddled with his car keys. "Uh, Deputy Jones owed me a favour."

"Oh really?" I smirked. "And why is that? Rescue a kitty from a tree?"

Jake smiled coyly. "I helped him put out his doormat once. It was on fire."

I had nothing to say to that.

My Alpha took me home, where I sunk gratefully into my mattress. I'm sure the pack was crashing downstairs again, slowly making their move into my house one dirty pair of socks at a time, but I was in too good a mood to kick them out. I fell asleep lying down face first, dead to the world and on top of my bed, exhasted from the hours sitting bored out of my mind at the cop shop. When I woke up, a blanket I could have sworn wasn't there before, was covering me.

* * *

**So, what do you think? Please let me know! Once again, sorry for the delay!**

**Please read and review!**

**Hazel-Buttafly**


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